


the future is not what you've seen

by rathalos



Series: all plans are golden [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Fix-It, Found Family, Gen, LGBTQ Themes, Nonbinary Character, OC insert, Self-Indulgent, i'll add more tags if I think of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rathalos/pseuds/rathalos
Summary: Tsuna has no idea who Reborn is—you’re the one who’s blessed (although, cursed might make for a more apt description) with this particular tidbit of information, along with the memories of what has to be a past life floating around in your head. But… that’s not important right now. You’ve already accepted it.(Or have you? Either way, you don’t have the time for what’s undoubtedly shaping up to be another existential crisis. At this point, it would be just one unremarkable episode in a very, very long line of others exactly like it.)*Your name is Takahisa, and you've been reincarnated as the younger sibling of Sawada Tsunayoshi. All you can do is take it in stride and strive for change.
Relationships: Reborn & Original Character(s), Reborn & Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada Nana & Original Character(s), Sawada Tsunayoshi & Original Character(s), Sawada Tsunayoshi & Original Character(s) & Vongola Tenth Generation Guardians
Series: all plans are golden [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939702
Comments: 18
Kudos: 86
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts, Favorite Self-Insert and OC-Centric Fanfics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not to write an essay in the author's note, but
> 
> first: this is a rewrite. the original fic is still up on my profile - it's the previous one in this series. my views about certain elements of KHR have drastically changed since i started writing, and i was beginning to lose direction. rather than try to fix it from the middle, i decided to completely rewrite it, borrowing some dialogue and scenes from the original that i still like.
> 
> second: tfinwys is primarily a genfic. some background romantic relationships will be present - mainly very light tsuna/kyoko, no dating or anything, they just have crushes on each other - but other than that, the focus will be primarily on friendships and family relationships
> 
> third: i plan to cover only the daily life arc with this fic. if i manage to get through that, i want to publish a different fic that covers the kokuyo arc, and so on and so forth. i have the most passion for the daily life arc, so this fic is going to be EXTREMELY slowly-paced. you have been warned.
> 
> fourth: takahisa is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns
> 
> fifth: please pleeease don't read my fic if you call yourself a "pro shipper" or if you ship R27/Arco27/anything like that. just exit the page, i don't want you reading this.
> 
> and finally: title is from black gold by foals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to [woofio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/woofio) for beta reading this chapter!

The morning starts like any other. Tsuna’s horrifically loud alarm scares you out of bed, you and your brother get dressed, eat breakfast, and head to school—the usual. Mama sends you off with a smile and a wave, and the walk to Namimori Middle is fine, if a bit on the quiet side.

The school day itself is also average—Mochida tries to waylay the both of you outside the front gates, spouting some nonsense about Tsuna “staring at Kyoko too much yesterday,” (which is a complete joke; Kyoko had only been stopping by to let Tsuna borrow her notes) but you keep your head down and pull Tsuna along towards the entrance of the school. Luckily, Mochida doesn’t seem to be willing to follow you all the way towards the building—a member of the Disciplinary Committee stands to the right of its doors, watching over the throng of students with an eagle eye.

Lunch is normal. P.E. is normal (though in this case, “normal” isn’t actually that great. Due to gender-segregated classes, you always have to group with the girls, which never fails to make you feel bad about yourself). Even math, the last class of the day and the one in which things are most apt to go haywire, is completely and utterly mundane.

The walk home remains similarly unimpressive; Tsuna manages to puncture the sole of his shoe with a rock (prompting you to note they’re the third pair he’s gone through in as many months), but beyond that, nothing is out of the ordinary.

In short, you aren’t expecting anything special when you get home. It comes as double the punch to the face when you walk into the living room and immediately spot Reborn sitting on your couch, sipping from a comically oversized mug of coffee and engaging in small talk with Mama.

Tsuna has no idea who he is—you’re the one who’s blessed (although, cursed might make for a more apt description) with this particular tidbit of information along with the memories of what has to be a past life floating around in your head. But… that’s not important right now. You’ve already accepted it.

(Or have you? Either way, you don’t have the time for what’s undoubtedly shaping up to be another existential crisis. At this point, it would be just one unremarkable episode in a very, very long line of others exactly like it.

Anyways, you have bigger fish to fry.)

“Mama, who’s this?” Tsuna asks. “Is he lost or something?”

You’re ready for this.

The moment has finally come, even if, by your count, it’s a few months late. The Reborn you knew, or had thought you’d known, had arrived during the early summer. It’s late October now—you and Tsuna turned fourteen last week. You _had_ spent a solid few weeks during June and July agonizing over Reborn failing to appear, and worrying that somewhere along the line things had gotten _massively_ fucked up, but he’s here now, so it’ll be fine. Probably.

You’re—you’re ready.

You’ve had years to do everything possible on your end to make Tsuna’s life less miserable (though most attempts at scoring some friends for Tsuna that _aren’t_ yourself had ended badly), and now you’re going to get more powerful or whatever and learn how to protect him from…

From…

“Oh!” Mama exclaims. “I must have forgotten to tell you. This is Reborn-kun! Tsu-kun, Takkun, I’ve been worried about your grades recently—” Tsuna winces, ever embarrassed, but you accept it with as much dignity as you can muster. “—and I was talking to your Papa, who recommended this famous tutor he read about in an online flyer!”

Is “everything” a valid answer? You hope so.

While you’re at it, you’d like to be able to defend yourself too. Being alive is nice, and besides, you wouldn’t be able to do anything for Tsuna if you were dead or heavily injured.

“He’ll be staying with us, so make sure to be mindful and look out for him,” Mama continues. You tune back into the conversation. “Reborn-kun may be very smart, but he’s still just a child. Don’t be hard on him.”

Oh. That’s kind of funny.

“Famous?” Tsuna makes a face. “I’ve never heard of him.”

“He’s the rising star of the educational community,” Mama explains, waving her hand dismissively. “But your Papa has assured me he’s the best of the best! He seems very professional so far! I should let you introduce yourself, Reborn-kun. Why don’t you three head upstairs and get to know each other? The earlier you start, the better, right?”

In typical adult fashion, Reborn and Mama seem to have come to some mutual unspoken agreement that any and all protests from you or Tsuna are to be steadfastly ignored.

“That’s a good idea,” Reborn agrees.

His voice comes out so much squeakier than you’d imagined it would, but you don’t really want to find out what would happen if you giggled at the so-called “World’s Greatest Hitman,” so you keep your mouth shut and follow him up the stairs.

Tsuna has no such limitations, and openly grumbles about the situation. You’re sympathetic to his complaints—after all, chances are you’ll also be subjected to Reborn’s special brand of hell—but hesitant to agree out loud because you _know_ how much of a little demon Reborn is.

As soon as the bedroom door clicks shut behind the three of you, Reborn turns around, completely dropping the innocent child act in favor of a flat, unwavering stare. Down to business, you guess.

“Sit,” Reborn commands, gesturing towards the table.

You do as he says, folding your legs underneath you and resting your chin on your hands, but Tsuna has other ideas.

“This is a prank, right?” he asks, crossing his arms. “I don’t know how you tricked Mama and Papa into thinking you were an actual tutor, but—”

_Bang._

“Sit. Down.”

Tsuna jumps about a foot in the air, staring with wide eyes at the gun Reborn is holding in his hand, the one that _definitely_ hadn’t been there a couple seconds ago.

“H… huh?” he asks faintly, looking down at himself as though to make sure he isn’t bleeding out. Out of instinct, you find yourself checking him over too, but you find no bullet wounds on him and no damage to the room. Must have been a blank.

A few seconds later, Mama’s voice drifts down the hallway, concern threaded through her words.

“Is everything okay up there?”

“I dropped something!” you yell, the lie coming out without much effort on your part. Do you feel guilty about it? Absolutely. But do you want Mama to come up here and see Reborn threatening you two with a gun? Absolutely _not._ “We’re fine!”

“All right!” comes Mama’s response, even if her tone is a little dubious.

In all fairness, that had sounded absolutely _nothing_ like you dropped something, and more like… y’know… a gunshot. But Mama doesn’t press the issue, which you choose to take as a good sign. No need to overexplain yourself, after all.

“Takkun, _what._ We are _not_ fine,” Tsuna says, voice trembling just the slightest bit. He crosses the room on shaky legs and sits down next to you. “He just shot a gun at me! A gun!”

“And you think Mama being here would make this better how?” you ask.

“Why are you so calm?” Tsuna fires back instead of answering, reaching out to poke you in the face. You squint angrily.

“I don’t know. Now shut up. Reborn…-kun—”

“Sensei,” Reborn interjects.

“—Sensei,” you fill in automatically, sending him an odd glance. “Reborn-sensei looks mad, and if you haven’t noticed, I’m trying not to get shot.”

Tsuna gives you a _look_ —one that says, “Okay, but if he kills us I’m _so_ blaming you.”—but doesn’t argue.

Reborn gives the two of you a second to get comfortable, then clears his throat, hopping up onto the low table.

“At least one of you knows how to follow orders,” he says, eyes flickering to you for a second and then away again to focus the full weight of their judgemental gaze onto Tsuna. “Now… I’m not just a tutor.”

Tsuna makes a disbelieving face at that, while you try to keep your reaction neutral. You pretty much know how it goes, so it’d probably be best to wait it out. There’s also the fear that you’re going to mess it up, say something you shouldn’t and raise Reborn’s suspicions. You’re naturally quiet anyways—of the two of you, Tsuna has always been the more expressive—so it makes sense that you wouldn’t chime in much.

Nothing suspicious there.

Hopefully.

You need to stop overthinking.

“Believe it or not,” Reborn drawls, in a voice that makes it very clear there will be consequences for not taking his word for it, “I’m actually a hitman. The World’s Greatest. Tsunayoshi. You’re the older sibling, correct?”

“U-Um, yeah. Everyone calls me Tsuna, though,” he manages to stutter. “But can we—can we go back to the hitman thing? I—are you joking or something? What do you _mean_ —”

Reborn raises his gun. “Seems you’re not taking me seriously enough. Do you need a demonstration?”

“Nevermind,” Tsuna finishes quickly, looking at the weapon nervously. He’s putting on a brave face, but the fact that his voice cracks every other second belies his true mental state. You give him a little nudge, hoping he’ll take it as reassurance and not reprimand. “I believe you.”

“Oh, really? That’s good. As I was saying, I’m here to train you to become the next boss of the Vongola Famiglia,” Reborn says, cutting straight to the chase. He turns to look at you. “Takahisa, you’re not set to inherit unless your brother dies, but you’ll receive my instruction as well. Consider it a complimentary service.”

“Dies?” Tsuna squeaks.

“I won’t let that happen,” Reborn reassures nonchalantly. “What do you think, Takahisa?”

“Uh… fine by me?” you say, for lack of any other input.

“Fine!?” Tsuna says, whipping around to look at you with an expression of disbelief. “It’s _not_ fine! I’m not joining the mafia! _You’re_ not joining the mafia!”

“You have no choice,” Reborn says. “Unless…” He glances at his gun.

“N-No! I’m fine!” Tsuna yelps, putting his hands up defensively. “Mafia, yes. Chickening out, no. I, uh. I’ll just stop doubting you now. Okay?”

“See how easy that was?” Reborn says, lowering the gun. In a flash of green, it turns into Leon and scuttles up his sleeve, coming to rest on his shoulder. You stare. Tsuna does a double-take, jaw falling open with shock, but Reborn effortlessly steamrolls over all questions he tries to ask. “Now we can begin with the evaluation.”

Your first day of training under the world’s greatest hitman is unexpectedly tame. Reborn gives you a brief introduction to the Vongola, a bit of information to get the two of you acquainted with exactly what the future holds. You listen fairly willingly, already resigned to it. On the other hand, Tsuna shows a clear reluctance to actually believe anything that comes out of Reborn’s mouth, despite being threatened at gunpoint multiple times to do so.

(Well. That’s your brother for you. It’s not weird for him to show such clear distaste for the entire situation—and you probably look like the odd one for accepting things so easily.)

Reborn also provides a short summary of what will be expected from both you and Tsuna, and then—you suspect it’s because he’s been a little _too_ nice so far and needs to balance things out—he shows the two of you a spread of assorted photos depicting the (rather gruesome) deaths of Vongola Nono’s three sons.

Tsuna has a freakout about that for a couple minutes before you manage to calm him down. Reborn, sitting cross-legged on top of your table, merely watches and waits while you reassure your brother—not knowing whether your words are even true or not—that “no, no one’s going to come after us,” that “if Reborn really _is_ the so-called World’s Greatest Hitman, he’d stop anyone if they tried,” and “it’s not like we have much say in the matter, anyway.”

After _that_ little bump in the road, Reborn goes back to acting like an actual tutor.

He works through math with the both of you—it’s not as much of a weak point for you as it is for Tsuna, but it’s still the subject you consistently do terribly in. Reborn’s expression clearly shows his utter disdain for your academic performance, and you both receive a hefty amount of criticism for your less-than-stellar handwriting.

It’s certainly not as wild as it _could_ have gone once upon a time, but you guess there are bound to be differences between a fictional story and actual, real life.

After hours of doing nothing but studying, aside from the occasional bathroom and meal breaks, Reborn calls it a day.

“We’re done here. Put your things away,” he orders, and Tsuna, too exhausted to put up an argument, complies without protest.

You check the clock—it’s nine in the evening. God, is he going to put you through this every day? You’ll die before the week is up.

“Finally,” Tsuna groans, slumping over the table. “Ugh, I’m tired.”

“As am I,” Reborn says, pulling a hammock out of his briefcase and stringing it up in the corner of the room near the window. “Which is why you won’t wake me up unless you want to die. Goodnight.”

With that, Reborn closes his eyes, for all intents and purposes dead to the world.

You look at him for a little while, unable to form any coherent thoughts, until Tsuna hesitantly nudges you in the shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Is this really our life now?” Tsuna whispers, casting a furtive glance toward Reborn. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t believe him, but… ”

“It just hasn’t sunk in yet, right?” you ask, equally quiet, tugging him out of the room with you. Best not to take the chance of disturbing Reborn’s slumber. Tsuna follows easily enough, expression contemplative. “Trust me, I feel the same.”

It’s true that things hadn’t gone as badly as you thought they would, but there’s still a feeling of disconnection between you and reality that weighs heavy on your shoulders. You’d known, or suspected, that this was going to happen, but seeing things actually start to unfold is an entirely different story.

You’ve long since moved past trying to rationalize your memories and knowledge of future events as the products of an overactive imagination _._ You still don’t know why _you_ , of all people, are like this, and you don’t think you’ll ever find an answer, but for the most part? That’s stopped bothering you.

When you were younger, you’d been a walking ball of anxiety— _when will this happen? When will that happen? Am I me or someone else? Who is Takahisa? Who is_ before _-Takahisa? Am I real?_ —but as the years wore on, you’d realized worrying about it would get you absolutely nowhere.

All you can do is take it in stride, and strive for change.

“It’s gonna be okay, right?” Tsuna asks hesitantly, bringing you out of your thoughts, gripping the handrail tightly as the two of you quickly descend the stairs. “I mean… Reborn… Reborn-sensei. Do you think he’ll, um, actually protect us? From…”

“Of course he will,” you say, patting Tsuna on the shoulder in a way you hope comes off as comforting. As soon as you reach the living room you make a beeline for the couch, flopping down on it and letting out a soft _oof_ when Tsuna throws himself across you. “He said you’re the last one eligible for inheritance, didn’t he?”

“Besides you,” Tsuna says.

“True, but I don’t think he’d kill you just to make me the successor,” you point out, resting your arms on Tsuna’s back. “It seems like a lot of work, and besides, you’re probably better for it anyways.”

Tsuna laughs, voice rough with disbelief. “Seriously? _Me_? Have you even _seen_ me?”

“I am literally your sibling. I see you every day.”

“Yeah, well, clearly you don’t know me that well if you think I’d make a good mafia boss,” Tsuna retorts. “You know what? That hurts me. I can’t believe you don’t know me. I thought you loved m—”

You poke him in the ribs. Hard. “Shut it. I could push you off this couch any time I wanted to.”

“Oh yeah?” Tsuna eggs you on, seemingly happy to have a distraction from the insanity of the current situation. “Bet you wouldn’t. Bet you _couldn’t._ ”

You dump him on the floor, of course.

*

The next morning, Tsuna’s alarm doesn’t wake you up—Reborn does. He forcefully brings you into the waking world by jumping onto your torso, coming extremely close to knocking the wind out of you and successfully pissing you off.

“ _Why_ ,” you wheeze, clutching your stomach and curling up on your side. You can hear Reborn going and doing the same thing to Tsuna, and though you’re in a world of pain, his yelp of distress makes you laugh. “Haha, you got—”

Unfortunately, Reborn has decided you’re not allowed to laugh at Tsuna’s misery, so he launches himself back across the room and directly into your side.

_Fuck._

“There is something deeply wrong with you,” you hiss through gritted teeth as he hops off the bed.

“What was that?” Reborn asks innocently, gun suddenly and conveniently in his hand.

“ …Nothing.”

You get out of bed, rolling your shoulders to ease the stiffness that had built up overnight. Your neck is a lost cause—the most you do is a couple stretches from side to side, more an excuse to crack the joints than anything.

Opposite from you, Tsuna is facedown on the floor and looks like he’s about to fall back asleep.

You get up and nudge his head with your foot.

“Mmmrrrnnggghfff,” he groans.

“Tsuna.” You nudge him harder.

“Mmmmmmngh. I hate you,” he says, peeling himself off the floor. “Why do you always hurt me?”

“I’m your sibling, it’s my job. Now get up. We have to get ready for school,” you say, turning your back on him and looking for Reborn. You can’t find him anywhere, though—must have left to go take care of… whatever business a hitman-baby might have. “He woke us up a little earlier than usual but—”

_BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP._

You instinctively clap your hands over your ears, cursing the loud blare of the alarm.

Tsuna powers through and stumbles over towards it, mashing random buttons until it shuts off. He turns around. The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds, holding eye contact, united in your hatred of loud noises, before unceremoniously breaking it off and starting to get ready for your day.

Breakfast passes quickly, or at least it feels like it does; with Reborn seated in a high chair in between you and Tsuna, you aren’t inclined to dawdle on your food.

“Takkun, it’s been thirty seconds,” Mama says, shaking her head fondly. “You know how easily you get hiccups. Slow down a little.”

“I’m hungry,” you defend. You eat faster, hiccups be damned.

On the way out of the house, Mama tries to catch Tsuna for something, but since he’d sped up to match pace with you, he only gives her a brief farewell before jamming his shoes onto his feet and following you out.

It’s so ordinary, you can almost believe it’s just like any other morning—but no. Regrettably, Reborn has decided to tag along with you two, something about “evaluating Namimori Middle.”

“Takahisa.” You turn your head toward Reborn, craning your neck down to look at him properly. God, he’s so short. “I’m noticing a distinct lack of reaction from you. How are you feeling about all this?”

“A little scared?” you admit truthfully. “Tsu-kun says I’m bad at expressing what I feel.”

“Forget bad,” Tsuna says. “More like—hey, no kicking!”

You smile a little.

“Well, a healthy amount of fear is always good,” Reborn says, nodding. “Not _too_ much, mind you. Aren’t you curious? About the role you’ll play?”

“Yeah…” You trail off. “Well, I mean, I’ll probably just be helping Tsu-kun out, right?”

“Among other things,” Reborn says cryptically. “There’s still a lot I need to see from you before I decide where exactly you fall on the graph. Tsunayoshi as well.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you murmur, eyes trained on your feet. One step after the other.

Reborn says nothing to that, and the three of you spend the next few minutes in relative silence, aside from Tsuna’s attempts to engage in small talk with you.

“Sorry, I-I’m thinking about something,” you say, after the third failed conversation starter.

Tsuna’s sidelong glance at Reborn isn’t at all subtle. “I get it,” he says, adjusting the strap of his bookbag and scuffing his shoe against the ground. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

The two of you (three if you count Reborn, but you get the feeling he would actively oppose being lumped in with you and Tsuna) lapse back into awkward stillness. You _do_ feel bad for your brother, but your mind’s too frazzled to form coherent words right now.

Your saving grace comes about a third of the way to school. You wonder which deity you should thank when Kyoko, approaching from around the corner of the road that connects to her street, calls out to you.

“Takahisa-san! Tsuna-kun!” she says, picking up her pace to fall in beside you. Tsuna stammers out a greeting, unable to make eye contact with her. Years of knowing Kyoko have mellowed out Tsuna’s crush into something more manageable, but he (understandably) still gets nervous.

“Did you guys finish the math homework? Do you need my notes—oh my gosh, who’s this?” she squeals, finally noticing the pint-sized demon walking alongside you.

“Our… tutor?” Tsuna says, going slightly pink in the face. “Uh—I mean, it’s. Complicated? He’s staying with us for a while…”

“Wow, really?” Kyoko asks, not even a hint of disbelief on her face. God, what is _with_ this? First Mama had accepted him into your home without a second thought, and now Kyoko? Are you and Tsuna the only ones willing to question his presence? “That’s amazing! How old is he?”

“That’s quite a rude question to ask,” Reborn says matter-of-factly. “I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

“Aww, he’s so well-spoken!” Kyoko cooes.

Reborn preens a bit. “At least someone around here respects me. What’s your name again?”

“Oh! I’m Sasagawa Kyoko,” she introduces, beaming at Reborn. “You can—”

“Kyoko! There you are.”

Ah, Hana. You don’t know her very well—she leads a fairly solitary existence, after all, really only interested in the tennis club and Kyoko—but as a result of sharing a friend, you do spend _some_ time with her. You have enough insight into her personality to know she has a penchant for butting into conversations and completely taking them over—today is no different.

She power-walks toward the four of you, eyebrows arched as she takes in the odd sight, and links her arm with Kyoko’s.

“Huh? What is this? Sawadas, are you babysitting?” she asks.

“No,” you attempt to explain. “I’m—”

“Not interested,” Hana dismisses, turning her nose up. By this point, you’ve become accustomed to her abrasive personality, so the dig doesn’t bother you. “Come on, Kyoko-chan, we need to be at school early today. Hiraide-senpai wanted to meet before class and you’re never going to make it if you walk with these two slugs.”

“Sorry!” Kyoko apologizes over her shoulder, waving to you and Tsuna while Hana forcefully drags her away. “I’ll let you have my notes later!”

“I don’t walk slow,” you grumble, once the two of them are out of earshot.

“Takkun,” Tsuna says, in a pointed tone. You hum innocently. “Look how far we’ve already fallen behind.”

“Hey. Kurokawa-san just walks abnormally fast,” you defend, shoving your hands in your pockets. Tsuna levels you with an unimpressed look and you reluctantly give ground. “Okay, look, maybe I’m a _little_ slow, but it’s not that bad.”

“Whatever you say,” Tsuna acquiesces, with a teasing smile on his face, subsiding once more into silence.

This time, the lack of noise feels natural rather than awkward. The distraction of meeting Kyoko, and subsequently having to worry about your math grade, is enough—temporarily, at least—to distract you from the worry taking root inside you.

That is, until Reborn pipes in. “Tsunayoshi. You have a crush on that girl, don’t you?”

“K-Kyoko-san? No!” Tsuna denies quickly, though his face gives it all away. “I, uh, we’re just… friends?”

“You’re not brave enough to confess to her,” Reborn says, in the tone of someone having an epiphany.

Tsuna, having been caught out, shrugs helplessly. “It’s not like she’d go out with a guy like me anyways.”

You try to chip in—though you don’t know what you would even _say_ to divert the situation—but the precious few seconds you waste stammering are summarily dismissed by Reborn, who simply states: “Well, that’s no good. With a resolve as weak as that, you might as well die.”

The next few seconds are hard to process.

Logically, you know that Reborn shooting Tsuna with the Dying Will Bullet is the catalyst for all events to come. It’s the Big One, the thing that gets the ball rolling, the key component. But emotionally? In all the ways that are important, right here and now? With a surge of feeling so visceral it takes you by surprise, you find you despise the idea of Reborn hurting Tsuna like this, even if it needs to happen.

As Reborn clicks the safety off on his handgun, you grab Tsuna by the sleeve and yank him towards you, meaning to put yourself in front of him. Reborn’s too fast for you, though—it was silly to have tried.

The bullet lands square in the middle of Tsuna’s forehead, and he falls.

“Oh,” you say quietly, voice trembling, stepping away from his body. “You… you shot him.”

He’s coming back, you tell yourself. This—it’s fine. He’ll get right back up because that’s what the bullet does—you don’t know why you’re… you’re…

“He’ll be fine. That was a Dying Will Bullet,” Reborn explains, like that’s enough to bring light to the situation while there’s a bullet buried in your brother’s head. Maybe it’s enough for _him_.

You let out a questioning noise, eyes still transfixed on the sight of Tsuna lying there with his face pressed into the ground.

“As long as he has regrets, he’ll wake up with the intent to fix things,” Reborn continues.

You gulp.

“But he’s…”

You’re—oh, you’re breathing too fast and—get _up,_ Tsuna—

The minutes before Tsuna finally comes back stretch out like eternity.

He sits suddenly and yells wordlessly, startling you out of your panic. He jumps to his feet with a smoldering orange cast to his eyes and a Flame burning bright on his forehead. You clench your fists to keep them from shaking.

“Tsu-kun—”

“AS IF I WERE TO DIE!” he shouts, punching the air. “ASK MAMA WHAT SHE WANTED TO TALK TO ME ABOUT THIS MORNING!”

He races off towards home, faster than he’s ever run before. You breathe a sigh of relief.

He’s fine. Tsuna is _fine._ He’s alive and—

“You shot him!” you shout, rounding on Reborn. Your voice is shrill and shaky, and your words are leaving you faster than you can stop them from coming out. “Why did you—he—you said you were going to protect him, not try to _kill_ him!”

“It’s fine,” Reborn says, echoing his own words. “He came back, see? No need for the theatrics.”

“Theatrics,” you repeat disbelievingly, trying to keep the venom out of your voice. You’re pretty sure you fail. He’s right, after all, even if it rankles. “I’m. I’m gonna go catch up with him.”

You don’t have the energy to chase him quickly, even though you want to. You drag your feet all the way home, Reborn trailing behind you silently.

The door stands open on its hinges when you get there, and Tsuna is crashed out on the couch. Mama hovers over him, worry on her face; when she sees you, she calls out, “Takkun! Did something happen? Tsu-kun came home yelling about—missed conversations or something—”

She breaks off, glancing back at Tsuna.

“He’s… okay, I think,” you say, eyes scanning him over to reassure yourself that he’s there, alive and whole.

Tsuna certainly seems to be breathing peacefully enough. He must have expended a lot of energy, going into Dying Will Mode and running all the way home.

Reborn offers nothing of use, instead surveying the scene, watching it pan out. You decide you hate him a little. Just a little.

“Nothing happened. He was just really worried about what you were trying to tell him before he left the house,” you explain. “He ran ahead.”

“Oh, that?” Mama says, shoulders slumping. She laughs. “I just wanted to ask you two to stop by the grocery store and pick up some eggplants on your way home. I can’t believe that’s what made him come home. He was running like someone lit a fire under him!”

“Haha… was he?” you ask, leaning against the wall and sighing.

It takes five long, long minutes for Tsuna to wake up, and he looks around wildly before his gaze settles on Mama. It must not take him long to understand the situation because he quickly blurts out a sheepish “Sorry,” fingers curling anxiously in the hem of his shirt. It must have come untucked while he was running. “I’m okay.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Mama says, smiling weakly. She ruffles Tsuna’s hair. “Just make sure you double-time it back to school. You’ll be late if you don’t!”

You look at the clock.

It’s almost seven-thirty.

Shit.

*

Your thoughts drift aimlessly for most of the school day—it’s hard to pay attention in class when you feel so thoroughly shaken up inside. It’s not even anything coherent. Your mind just keeps flashing back to the sight of Tsuna, still and unmoving, lying there on the ground. You can look over next to you and clearly see he’s _right there_ , sleeping in class as usual, but it’s more complicated than that.

If this keeps up—and there’s every indication that it will—you’re going to have to get used to it. No beating around that bush. But you don’t want to.

When the lunch bell rings, you slump over on your desk, forehead landing against the surface with a dull _thunk_.

“You good?” Tsuna asks, kicking you in the ankle.

There’s a lot you could say to that, but you get the feeling it’d only make Tsuna worry. And honestly? _You_ should be the one asking _him_ if he’s all right.

But in the interest of not bringing back up what was probably a fairly negative experience for him, you say, “Obviously not after you kicked me like that. I think you broke my ankle.”

Tsuna huffs in indignation. “If I was that strong, I wouldn’t be wasting my time kicking you.”

“What are you two going on about?”

“Oh. Hey, Kurokawa-san, Kyoko-san,” you greet. “We’re about to hear what Tsu-kun would waste his strength on.”

“No, we’re not!” Tsuna protests.

“I’d become a fighter,” Hana chimes in, pulling up a chair and sitting in front of you. Kyoko does likewise, taking a seat opposite from Tsuna, whose immediate response is to look everywhere _but_ her. “The ultimate catharsis, beating the crap out of people.”

“I guess strength would be helpful with tennis,” Kyoko says, setting her elbows on Tsuna’s desk. She frowns. “Ugh, I need to build up more muscle in my arms.”

“I could finally win strength tests at festivals,” Tsuna says dreamily. “The grand prize…”

You laugh. “Yeah, that’d be a sight to see!”

The four of you chatter amongst yourselves until the bell rings again, and you slog through the last couple classes of the day, still not _entirely_ okay, but more focused than you’d been before.

Reborn meets you and Tsuna beyond the school gates, jumping down from the stone wall and landing lightly on Tsuna’s shoulder.

“Hey!” Tsuna says, attempting to bat Reborn off himself.

But Reborn has other plans—he catches Tsuna’s hand and forces it away in a display of frankly disturbing strength for someone of his small stature. You wrinkle your nose.

Eventually, after a good hundred or so meters of walking, Tsuna kicks off the inevitable talk with, “What happened this morning?”

“You used your Dying Will.”

From there, Reborn launches into a short, bare-bones explanation about the Dying Will Flames and their properties, most of which you already know.

Honestly… you haven’t thought all that much on what your own Flame type is—which guardian of Tsuna’s you might replace. You’ll probably find out soon, but you’re still a little shaky from this morning, so you aren’t in any rush to know.

Tsuna looks a little overwhelmed at the end of Reborn’s lecture, and he appeals to you for help.

“Hey, man, you basically died and came back to life today,” you say, trying to make your voice as light as possible. “I think it’s a little too late not to believe him.”

“Stop worrying,” Reborn demands, leaning over and smacking you lightly. “You’re starting to put _me_ on edge, that’s how bad it is.”

“Can you blame me?” you ask, resenting that he’d picked up on that.

“Yes.”

“I’m fine, Takkun,” Tsuna says, quick to reassure. “Remember what you said yesterday? He wouldn’t actually kill me.”

Reborn looks like he wants to say something to the contrary, but luckily for you, he reins in his urge to mess with Tsuna’s head.

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Reborn agrees, crossing his arms. “What do you take me for?”

“Um…”

Reborn clears his throat.

You wisely don’t finish the sentence.

*

Over the next few days, you’re hesitant to let Tsuna out of your sight. It’s stupid, but some part of you hopes Reborn won’t launch him into more Dying Will escapades if you stick around to witness them.

And Surprisingly enough, Reborn _does_ have other plans (for now), ones that don’t involve pulling a gun on Tsuna.

He just tutors you, every day after school, save for Mondays—those are reserved for Kyoko, and for whatever reason, Reborn makes himself scarce during Tsuna’s math help sessions with her. It kind of gives you a bad feeling, but there’s not really anything you can do.

Right now, Reborn is helping Tsuna with something-or-other; you’d guess science, since you have a test coming up next week and he’s been panicking about it. You smile to yourself, hiding the expression behind your workbook in case Tsuna sees and thinks you’re laughing at him.

You’re still paying enough attention to your brother and Reborn that you notice when he nods, satisfied with Tsuna’s progress, and decides to leave him to his own devices in favor of checking in on you.

“You and Tsunayoshi are fairly proficient in English,” Reborn comments, looking over your shoulder at the worksheet you’re slogging through. “How unexpected.”

Oh. Maybe it hadn’t been science after all.

“Mama wanted us to learn another language so she enrolled us in an English class before we began to attend school,” you explain, ignoring the insult. “I kept at it because you can make more money if you’re multilingual.”

Reborn hums, and you take the brief moment to translate a sentence from English back into Japanese.

“That’s a good starting point, as well as a decent motivation. Money can get you far in this world,” Reborn allows. “I want you and your brother to pick up Italian in addition to another language of your choice.”

“Hmm. Maybe Vietnamese?” you suggest. You’re not _quite_ fluent, and the knowledge of how to speak it is more like a distant memory than anything else, but it’s something from before. It would be nice to keep a little bit of that close. “I like how it sounds.”

“Have you studied any?” Reborn asks.

“A little?” you say. “I dunno. It just sounded interesting.”

Oh. That’s the last question. You tuck your worksheet into your English folder and open your math textbook.

“Reborn-sensei, I need help with the probability section,” you say, pointing toward the bottom half of the page in your book.

He leans over your shoulder to read the problem. “I see.”

The fact that most of his explanation goes over your head is a testament to the fact that you have a long way to go before your grades even resemble passable, but—it’s not all bad, you guess.

Things could be worse—you’re glad they aren’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi... it's been a little bit of a while lol. i read and re-read this chapter until i got sick of it, and even then there's still a few parts i'm sure could be improved. but i'm super impatient and just want to post things really fast as soon as they're done, so here.
> 
> btw don't read the end note if you're triggered by pictures of guns

You take back everything you thought about Reborn having plans other than using the Dying Will Bullets on Tsuna.

On Wednesday after school, Reborn gets right back into it, setting Tsuna ablaze with a single shot of his Leon-gun (that’s _disturbing,_ by the way—much more so than you’d thought it would be). It comes as a complete surprise. One minute you’re laughing with Tsuna silly pun he’s come up with, and the next— _BANG. Thud._

The day is chilly. A cool breeze threads through the air, slow and gentle. Your feet stay rooted to the ground as you stare at Tsuna’s prone form, face-down where he’d fallen into the (thankfully deserted) road.

You already know it’s going to be a while before you’re used to seeing this.

After a few seconds—long, long seconds—pass, Tsuna springs to his feet and screams, “AS IF I WERE TO DIE! I’LL HIDE MY MATH TEST RESULTS FROM KYOKO-SAN!”

…While Tsuna _does_ hold the title ‘King of Petty Regrets,’ thus leading you to expect these kinds of things from him, this one _really_ takes the cake. It’s funny enough to lift your spirits a little, at least. He promptly runs off in the direction of the park, and you jog after him curiously. Reborn hops onto your shoulder, clutching your collar with his tiny little fists. You want to bat at him, but your hands are busy and he’d probably maim you for it anyways.

By the time you reach the park—significantly later than Tsuna had—he’s already engaged in digging a hole in the ground. You approach him, side-stepping the waist-high mound of dirt he has accumulated, and watch his progress with an amused (if slightly baffled) eye.

“This is training?” you ask, barely managing to avoid a dirt clump Tsuna hurls at you. You doubt he did it on purpose, but just to be contrarian, you kick a little dirt back into the hole.

“Yes,” Reborn says. “You wouldn’t understand, since you’re ignorant to the ways of the mafia.”

“Are you going to explain, so that I’m not ignorant?”

“No,” Reborn says gleefully. “I don’t think I will.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have expected a helpful answer from him. In your temporarily misplaced anger, you fling some more dirt back towards Tsuna, who doesn’t even notice.

“That’s not a healthy coping mechanism,” Reborn informs you. You glance at him, eyebrows raised, not knowing how you want to respond but at least wanting to give him _some_ kind of a hard time, but he skillfully avoids your eyes. Even when you walk around right in front of him and try to stare him down. “Oh, look, he’s finally finished.”

The hole at this point exceeds four feet in depth, and Tsuna pulls a wad of paper out of his pocket. The two sheets crinkle pitifully in his hand, crumpled, dirty, and stuck together in the corner by a lone staple that looks like it’s about one wrong move away from coming off altogether. Bright red circles from your teacher’s correcting pen litter the front and back of the test, a monument to Tsuna’s failure.

You hold back a wince. It hasn’t been this bad in a _while._ No wonder he wants to bury it somewhere.

Tsuna climbs out of the hole, tosses the test into it, and begins to replace all the dirt. He’s covered nearly head to toe in grime. No way are you letting him into the house like this—you’ll hose him off yourself it that’s what it takes.

The Flame on his forehead dies out as soon as the last little pile of dirt has been swept into place by Tsuna’s clumsy, Flame-powered maneuvers. His knees buckle, and he’s saved from falling flat onto his face by the quick hand you hook into the back of his collar.

He lets out a strangled yelp, legs shaking slightly as they become re-used to his weight.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he wheezes once you let him go, bending over to catch his breath. “I feel like I just got hit by a truck.”

“Because of me?” you ask, slightly bewildered. “I don’t think I hurt you _that_ bad.”

“Because of getting shot,” Reborn explains, climbing Tsuna until he reaches your brother’s shoulder. He uses Tsuna’s hair as a handhold, and you grimace in pained solidarity. “It’ll take quite the toll on him until he’s grown acclimated, and built up some more strength. This bullet removes all your physical limits—there are consequences to operating at your full potential when you haven’t earned it yet.”

_Wow, it’s almost like you’re an actual teacher,_ you think to yourself.

“I’m disappointed, though,” Reborn continues, completely shattering the foundation of the good image he’d been building in your eyes. “Maybe I was wrong to expect better from you.”

“Clearly,” Tsuna says, voice still a little rough. Maybe you should’ve caught him in a way a little less harmful to his general wellbeing. Oh, well. Something to keep in mind for next time. He looks around the park, seeming immensely relieved that there seems to be no one around. “Can we go home?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Reborn asks pointedly.

“Hm?” He gives Tsuna’s hair a yank, gesturing meaningfully towards the freshly-churned dirt on the ground. It’s clear what he means. Tsuna’s face falls. “Oh, no.”

You fail to smother a laugh.

*

Mama nearly faints when you come home with a nasty, muddy Tsuna in tow.

“ _What_ have you two been up to!?” she cries, leaning through the open kitchen window so far you fear she might fall out. “First you come home late—without informing me!—and then Tsuna looks like he’s taken a tumble through the woods!”

“Sorry?” you offer, shrugging sheepishly.

Mama sighs, bracing her hands on the windowsill and shaking her head. “I swear, the pair of you get into so much trouble. Takkun, get the garden hose.”

“Th—the _garden hose?_ ” Tsuna asks, voice ascending an octave.

“Would you rather have to scrub your dirt off the floor?” you ask, prodding him with one finger.

Tsuna balks.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s _cold_ ,” Tsuna points out.

“No it’s not. I don’t even need a jacket,” you retort, sticking your bare arms out as proof.

“Okay, you’re a freak,” Tsuna says, clearly having given up on arguing with you. Ha. “Let’s get this over with. I can have hot chocolate after, right?”

“I’ll start warming the milk,” Mama says, withdrawing back into the house and shutting the window behind her.

“Small mercies,” Tsuna mutters ungratefully, throwing his bag at you and dislodging not fewer than three clumps of soil as he does so.

He stomps around to the back of the house, Reborn clinging to his shoulder with an expression of pure delight on his face. You frown. You’re the only one allowed to take joy in Tsuna’s suffering.

“Reborn-sensei, you shouldn’t be having fun,” you say, following the two of them and grabbing the garden hose off its wheel. You unwind it, rapidly spinning the handle to give yourself some more length. “It’s mean.”

“You’re smiling,” Reborn comments, coming down from Tsuna’s shoulder and drawing near to you.

“I enjoy menial tasks,” you lie, turning the hose on and dragging it towards Tsuna. Your brother stands in the middle of the yard with his arms crossed, face streaked with soil, small rocks tangled in his puffball of hair. He looks like he’s facing his execution. “Come on, it’s not gonna be that bad. You can get inside and shower right after this.”

“I just don’t think we need—”

“Oops, can’t hear you,” you say, aiming the hose and blasting him. Part of your thumb covers the end of the nozzle, increasing the pressure for an even deeper clean. “What was that?”

“You’re just bitter ‘cuz I used to do this to you every time we got home from going exploring!” Tsuna accuses, squeezing his eyes shut as cloudy water sloughs off him and weighs down his clothes.

“WOW, THIS WATER SURE IS LOUD,” you yell. “TURN AROUND.”

Okay, maybe it _is_ revenge. But only a little bit.

“See?” you ask, shutting the hose off and rolling it back onto the wheel. “Not even that bad.”

“It was _torture_ ,” Tsuna complains. He stands and shivers near the back porch while you unlock the door and grab an armful of towels, laying them out on the floor like a carpet so that Tsuna doesn’t flood the house when he comes in.

“Your royal highness,” you say elegantly, bowing at the waist in front of the open door. “Please, make your way to the grand—”

Tsuna smacks you over the head in passing, successfully getting your hair wet and causing you to overbalance and fall face-first onto the dusty wood floor of the porch. Your head nearly smashes into one of Mama’s potted plants.

For your misery, Reborn rewards you with a snarky laugh brimming with schadenfreude. Truly and sincerely, you wish you could tell him to shut up.

You pick yourself up off the floor and gather up the mildly soaked towels Tsuna had left in his wake. The familiar hum of running water comforts you, and the smell of hot chocolate wafts out of the kitchen, warm and sweet enough to make you forget the cold at the tips of your fingers and the back of your neck. Hopefully Mama made enough for herself, too; you feel bad whenever she sits at the table with you and Tsuna and only watches the two of you drinking your own.

Your timely arrival into the kitchen—after a swing by the laundry cupboard to hang the towels over the dryer—thwarts Mama’s attempt to put marshmallows into your mug. You cup your hands under her own, catching the marshmallows and dumping them onto the counter.

“You always forget,” you complain, popping one into your mouth and swallowing it whole. Eugh, that’s disgusting.

It’s curious, though. There’s a fourth mug… oh, right. Reborn exists. Unfortunately.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mama chuckles, just as Reborn enters the kitchen and shimmies up the front of the cabinet to seize his hot chocolate. “It’s instinct—you used to like them so much.”

“Times change,” you say. Down the hall, the sound of the shower shutting off reaches your ears. Uh oh. “Hold on, I need to get Tsuna a change of clothes before he—”

“TAKKUN!”

“I KNOW! I’M ON IT!” you shout, the words coming out as more of a roar. Mama gives you a chiding look, and you laugh. “Hey, he’s the only one I can yell at and get away with it. I have to treasure it.”

“Maybe not while you’re right next to me,” Mama suggests gently, placing her hands on your shoulders and steering you towards the stairs. “Hurry. I think Tsu-kun’s getting cranky.”

On cue, Tsuna calls out for you again, sounding considerably grumpier than before. You hurry up the stairs, feet thumping on each step as you jog. It only takes a couple seconds to throw together an outfit consisting of clothes hastily taken from Tsuna’s messy, unorganized dresser. 

You open the bathroom door, eyes shut to preserve Tsuna’s dignity, and throw his clothes in the general direction of his disgruntled mumbling.

“Thanks a lot,” Tsuna says. His words drip with sarcasm. “Not like I was standing here shivering, _again,_ because of you.”

“Oh, you weren’t?” you ask, shutting the door. “Perfect! Anyways, hurry up!”

“Takkun, you brought me—you know what, I don’t even care anymore.”

Tsuna emerges from the bathroom half a minute later, looking a little worse for wear but nonetheless fine.

“Is the hot chocolate done?”

“It’s _been_ done. And… sorry,” you apologize, staring at the skirt of yours that you’d mistakenly given him. “I didn’t notice.”

“Whatever, it’s fine. At least it fits,” Tsuna says, shaking his head. Water droplets from his slightly-damp hair hit you in the face, and you flinch back a little. “Mama didn’t put the marshmallows in yet, did she?”

“She was _trying_ to put them in mine,” you say. “I stopped her. Who knows if she put them in yours?” Tsuna splutters, and you quickly change the topic. “Hey, have you ever noticed the way Reborn-sensei climbs onto the counter?”

“No, why?”

“Good. Keep it that way. I just had to see it before and it was terrifying,” you warn. “I don’t think babies should be able to move like that.”

“Now I _have_ to witness this,” Tsuna says, pulling ahead of you a little bit and entering the kitchen first. “Mama, you put the marshmallows in too early! They’re gonna be soggy now.”

“That’s the best way to eat them,” Mama says, sipping from her own cup and smiling serenely.

“It’s _not_ ,” Tsuna says, sounding completely appalled.

An odd scent drifts by your nose just then, and you tilt your head back, sniffing the air. “Why does it smell like coffee in here?”

“Reborn-kun asked me to put a little instant coffee powder in his,” Mama explains. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him a little.”

“Ugh, instant coffee?” you ask, shaking your head in disappointment.

“Don’t be such a snob, Takkun,” Tsuna reprimands.

You scoff, supremely offended. “You don’t even like coffee. Butt out.”

Tsuna, in usual brotherly fashion, refuses—the argument-not-argument escalates to small shoves, each of you testing the limit to how rough you can get without making the other spill their hot chocolate.

The play-fight goes on until Reborn not-so-gently reminds the two of you that you have homework to do, effectively spoiling the mood for the next three or so hours.

*

After dinner, you, Tsuna, and Reborn retreat upstairs for a second round of studying. To your curiosity, Reborn hasn’t touched on the topic of the mafia much at all during the near-week he’s been here, aside from stating the obvious—that Tsuna will be inheriting a position as the tenth boss of the Vongola.

It’s not that you _want_ to be plunged into the lifestyle, not like you want things to progress quickly… you just want to know.

Curiosity killed the cat, blah blah blah. It’s a good thing you’re human.

During a lull in all the teaching, where the only sounds in the air are of you and Tsuna’s pencils scratching against your math workbooks, Reborn calls a temporary halt to the routine.

“I have some news,” he announces. Leon runs laps around the brim of his fedora.

“Good or bad?” you ask.

“Don’t really want to know that,” Tsuna says, though the look on his face tells you he’s perfectly aware that he has no choice but to receive it.

“An… acquaintance, shall we say, of mine is flying in from Italy tomorrow,” Reborn starts. “His name is Gokudera Hayato. He’ll be testing your aptitude for the position of Vongola Decimo.”

Now _there’s_ a name you recognize.

It’s hard to focus on concrete details about him, harder still to recall details such as what he likes (other than Tsuna, which you’re pretty sure is a personality trait for him), his favorite color, favorite food—but the _concept_ of him exists in the more nebulous recesses of your mind, along with the distinct sensation of turning pages under your fingers, ink smears on the palms of your hands, and the swell of hollow exhaustion that comes with staying up later than you should. Memories of reading about him drift to the surface of your mind, hazy and clouded but unmistakable in their essence.

“What do you mean, test?” Tsuna asks, sounding distressed. “You’ve been here for a _week._ I haven’t learned anything.”

“Are you sassing me?” Reborn says, hand inching towards Leon. The chameleon dutifully transforms into a gun.

“No!” Tsuna denies, putting his hands up to shield himself.

“Oh. Nevermind about that, then,” Reborn says, and Leon morphs back into a chameleon. The little lizard promptly nestles himself under the flap of Reborn’s collar and falls asleep. “As I was saying, he’s going to test you. Fight you, more specifically. It’ll take place after school, in the abandoned field. I have the utmost confidence in your ability.”

You laugh in disbelief, but clam up as soon as Reborn sends you a look. He’s like a villain who hates it when their lackeys laugh alongside them. It’d be comedic if not for the very real threat that he presents.

“ _Fight,_ ” Tsuna repeats disbelievingly, shaking his head slowly. “You’re sending me to my death! But I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Most certainly not,” Reborn affirms. “I feel a little bad, though, so I’ll give you some information. His name, as stated, is Gokudera Hayato. He’s an up-and-coming assassin who shows great potential—he’s known as Smokin’ Bomb Hayato.”

“Bomb?” Tsuna asks, looking pale. You laugh. He’s probably picturing some fully-grown man, and Reborn does absolutely nothing to correct that assumption. “He’s—he’s not gonna explode me, is he?”

“Who knows?” Reborn says. “You’d better try your best.” A pause. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Takahisa.”

Shit.

“A work associate—”

_WORK ASSOCIATE?_

That. That is a _clear_ upgrade from “acquaintance.”

“—of mine is flying here in a few weeks. She’s been delayed by an assignment—of sorts—so you’ll get yours later than Tsunayoshi,” he says, matter-of-factly.

Tsuna, looking like he feels a lot better now that you have to suffer alongside him, says, “At least now we’re both gonna get our butts kicked. Or killed.”

“Shut up, man,” you grouch, elbowing him and causing him to drop his pencil. “At least I can watch your fight and learn from it so I don’t make your stupid mistakes.”

“Don’t assume,” Reborn warns.

“I can’t watch?” you ask.

“You can,” Reborn allows.

Your hand twitches. He is _infuriating_.

“What’s the point,” you mutter, returning to your homework.

*

Reborn wakes the two of you bright and early the next morning, well before you normally get up, expertly deflecting any questions as to why you’re being so rudely disturbed.

“Watch out for the stairs on the way down,” he comments, before leaving the room to allow you and your brother some privacy. “I booby trapped them.”

If you asked for the reasoning behind that decision, you’d probably just get another typical non-answer, so you keep your mouth shut. Tsuna seems to have also given up on making any kind of sense out of Reborn’s actions, instead focusing on going about his morning routine with a single-minded focus you hardly ever see from him.

The stairs, as you discover, have indeed been booby trapped.

Thin wires catch the light whenever you tilt your head back and forth. They hang wrapped around small, nearly invisible hooks Reborn had bolted into the wall without anyone noticing. It’s going to be hell trying to avoid these.

“Follow my lead, I guess,” you say, hazarding a step forward.

“I don’t trust you to keep us safe,” Tsuna says, hugging his school bag closer to himself in an attempt to take up less space. With how close together these wires are strung, you don’t think it’ll do much, but… you follow suit. It can’t hurt.

“And you think _you’re_ any better?” you retort, cautiously setting a foot down onto the top stair. Your failure to trip any traps boosts your confidence, and you descend one more step. “Come on, let’s just be really careful. It’ll be fine.”

Of course, you misstep on the fourth stair. Your foot comes down directly onto one of the wires, it engages with a soft _snick,_ and the next thing you know, tens (hundreds?) of foam baseballs come out of nowhere, mercilessly pelting the two of you.

The onslaught confuses you into tripping. Tsuna tries to reach out for you but only succeeds in getting pulled down, too, and you tumble gracelessly to the floor, landing in a heap in front of the stairs. Somehow you’ve both avoided injury.

“Takahisa. Tsunayoshi.”

“Reborn-sensei,” you groan, pushing yourself to your feet and almost eating shit when you step on a ball. “Why?”

“It’s part of your training, of course,” Reborn explains, expression magnanimous. You hold back a sigh. “It’ll help improve your coordination. You are both absolutely abysmal in terms of physical attributes. Now start cleaning this mess.”

You wish that wasn’t true so you could retort, but unfortunately, he’s right. Neither you nor Tsuna are really ones for exercise; even the meager physical conditioning he’s been putting you through is miserable.

It becomes clear to you that Reborn had given the both of you an early awakening precisely because he’d predicted how long it would take to put away the mess on the floor. You decide you resent him immensely, and, happy with your newfound grudge, you manage to sit down to breakfast in a good mood. Reborn seems unsatisfied with your cheer and punishes you by pushing his chair around the table until it’s directly to your left.

“…Thanks, Reborn-sensei,” you say, resignedly spooning some rice into your mouth.

“You’re welcome,” he responds.

*

Mochida is a fucking pest.

You thought you’d been doing a fairly good job avoiding him since last month when he “accidentally” spilled a cup of yogurt on you at lunch time, but no. He’s back for more, another round of targeting his favorite victim(s).

“Hey, Taka-chan,” Mochida says, leaning on your desk.

“Um, don’t call me that? Please? We’re not close.”

Tsuna, less than a meter away, has gone from “pleasantly calm” to “about to explode from a combination of rage and anxiety” in two seconds flat.

“That hurts,” Mochida says, laying a hand over his heart. “I thought we were besties.”

You are so, _so_ tired. It doesn’t even make you mad anymore—the repeated harassment towards Tsuna, the moments where he nearly says Chiyo-chan instead of Taka-chan even though you _know_ he’s at least trying. You’re. Just. Exhausted. He refuses to get anything through that thick head of his, and you’re becoming sick of explaining.

Especially since most of this is over a crush. A _crush._ Kyoko would be _horrified_ if she knew!

“Yeah, used to be,” you reply, trying not to let your annoyance show in your voice. It must fail, since Mochida’s eyebrow briefly twitches downwards. “Until you started bullying my brother.”

“He’s a loser anyway,” Mochida dismisses, waving a hand in Tsuna’s direction. “Why do you even hang out with him?”

“He’s my _family_ ,” you say in disbelief.

“Shit family.”

“Go to class,” you tell him. _Motherfucker,_ you don’t say.

“Bell doesn’t ring for five minutes,” Mochida says, finally taking his hands off your desk and sitting in the vacant chair in front of you. _Damn it, Asahara-san. Show up on time for class for once, so Mochida doesn’t always take your seat!_ “Can’t I spend some time with a friend?”

“We are not friends,” you deny.

“We totally are!” Mochida protests.

“If they say they aren’t your friend, they aren’t your friend!” Tsuna interrupts, looking determined to protect you from him. He looks like he’s about to cry, shoulders hunched to his ears and fists trembling at his sides. You make an expression caught halfway between a smile and a frown. “Just leave them alone!”

“Shove off, Dame-Tsuna,” Mochida says, using one hand to push him back by the shoulder.

“Can you get _out_ already?” you say, nearly pleading, sending a worried glance towards Tsuna, who’s looking downright irate. “I need to get my stuff ready for class.”

“Fine, fine,” Mochida agrees, putting his hands up innocently.

After he leaves, Tsuna deflates, shoulders completely slumped compared to the taut mess they’d been before. “I don’t get it.”

“He’s pulling pigtails,” you answer flatly.

Tsuna blanches. “He’s _what_?”

“Pulling… pigtails… Oh my god, platonically!” you add at the last minute, realizing how it’d sounded the first time around. “If he liked me like _that_ I would’ve dropped out of school.”

“No kidding.” Tsuna huffs, not seeming satisfied with that. “I just wish he’d leave you alone. He’s such—such an—ugh, I can’t say it but you _know_ what I mean.”

You scowl. Your silence should be answer enough.

You forget about the run-in with Mochida within the hour—it’s par for the course, though you desperately wish it wasn’t. And besides… Tsuna seems more shaken-up than you. He always is, whenever someone approaches you with less-than-stellar intentions.

You suppose that’s the way it works with siblings. Insult me all you like, but touch my family and you’re dead, and so on and so forth.

You just hope his mood isn’t _too_ bad for the rest of the day.

*

During second period, Miyagi-sensei introduces a transfer student.

Gokudera Hayato introduces himself with a bang, literally, as he kicks Tsuna’s seat on the way towards his desk. He loudly thunks down in his seat, the chains dangling from his pants making loud clacking noises against the plastic seat. How had he gotten away with wearing those?

Uniform regulations and rule-flouting aside, he stays in the back of the class angrily staring a hole into the back of Tsuna’s head. Your brother doesn’t notice—he’s too scared to look in Gokudera’s direction—but you certainly do.

When the lunch bell rings, and there’s no sign of him letting up, Tsuna leans in close to you and whispers, “I’m supposed to fight _him_? He looks like he could kill me any second now?”

As if Gokudera can hear what Tsuna’s saying—which shouldn’t be possible, given the distance between the two of you and him, and the volume at which Tsuna had been speaking—he abruptly stands, pushing his chair back quite some centimeters and stomping gloomily up to the two of you.

“You,” he says, focusing on Tsuna and more or less overlooking you. “You’re Sawada Tsunayoshi?”

Tsuna gulps. There’s still a trace of the frustration on his face from earlier today. “Y-yeah…”

Gokudera scoffs, eyes flickering to the students slowly drifting out of the room. The usual hustle and bustle of lunchtime chatter makes his next words difficult to hear. “Yeah, you don’t look like much. I’ve got this in the bag. Che, don’t even see why I have to fight you… it’s obvious I’ve won.”

“I don’t want to fight you either,” Tsuna says, fingers tight on the edge of his desk. You frown. The Gokudera you know (or _should_ know or _will_ know or—it’s confusing) had been as loyal as they come. The exact details of what’d happened to flip him from this to that are fuzzy, unclear, but you know it has something to do with Tsuna, with eye-searing explosions, dirty elbows scuffed from scraping against the ground, rolling with an impact. “Maybe w-we—maybe we can work this out peacefully?”

“As if,” Gokudera laughs. He turns to you, assessing you with sharp green eyes. “Wow, you look even more pathetic than him.”

That rankles, but he’s kind of right. Tsuna has always won arm wrestling matches with you. However, it’s also kind of unfair, since Reborn has been here for exactly a week and you’ve never _needed_ to be stronger than Tsuna before.

“Hey!” Tsuna protests weakly. “Takkun’s not pathetic.”

This is the absolute _worst_ possible time for this to have happened, with Tsuna still riled up and you way too worn-out to defend yourself.

“Tsu-kun, I am,” you say, nudging him and grimacing when a flash of irritation crosses Gokudera’s face. “You’re gonna make him angry.”

“I don’t care.” Tsuna frowns at you. “And stop putting yourself down.”

Gokudera pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up slightly with the motion. “ _Dio mio_. You really need him to protect you? Can’t fight your own battles, huh?”

“Don’t wanna,” you say, slightly uncomfortable with the volatile turn this conversation is taking. Is he trying to provoke Tsuna? Well. It’s _working._ But for what? They’re already going to fight; this is needless. Maybe he’s testing him. That’s not much better though, at least in your eyes. “I actually don’t want _any_ battles being fought.”

“You should,” Tsuna says.

What?

“They can’t,” Gokudera dismisses. As if to prove his point, he reaches forwards for you with his middle finger curled back.

You lean away from him, hoping to avoid a flick on the forehead, but before he can actually get you, Tsuna tackles him.

“Oh my god!” you shout, partly out of surprise and partly out of disbelief. “Tsu-kun, stop! We’re gonna get in trouble!”

Gokudera laughs again, sounding genuine instead of judgemental this time. “That’s more like it! Show me what you’ve got.”

Tsuna punches him.

Gokudera’s head snaps back and bounces against the floor. A student outside the classroom who’d been unfortunate enough to witness the entire thing shrieks in dismay and runs off, screaming, “NEZU-SENSEI! DAME-TSUNA’S ATTACKING THE NEW KID!”

Tsuna’s paid back for his efforts by a vicious headbutt. Gokudera balls his fists in Tsuna’s shirt and uses the momentum to bash the crown of his head into Tsuna’s chin. You wince at the click of Tsuna’s teeth gnashing together, and your eyes widen when a trickle of blood drips out of his mouth.

Fuck. Fuck. They’re both _idiots_.

You allow yourself three seconds to panic, during which Tsuna attempts to claw Gokudera’s face off. After your allotted time, you rush to Tsuna’s side, grabbing the back of Tsuna’s collar and dragging him off of Gokudera. He resists, and swings his fists out wildly in an attempt to score one last blow.

You shake him.

“Seriously?” you ask, nearly fuming.

“Yeah.” Tsuna’s breath comes in short, harsh pants. He looks _more_ than angry, and his movements are jerky as he reaches up to free himself from your grip. “You used to bite people who called me Dame. He was gonna _hit_ you. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Anything. A flick on the head doesn’t count as hitting,” you say, unable to deny that yes, at one point you’d deemed biting people who insulted your brother was a good solution to all the bullying. You glance to the side, where Gokudera’s sprawled on his back. Eh… he looks fine. Probably. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage him much. _You,_ on the other hand.”

When Tsuna opens his mouth to say, “What?” a small river of blood mixed with saliva runs out of his mouth. “Ah.”

“‘Ah’ is right,” you say, unable to keep the irritation from your voice.

“Are you mad?” Tsuna asks.

“No. Well, a little,” you say, grimacing when Nezu barges into the classroom, looking highly affronted at the sight before his eyes. “But more than that, I’m _worried._ You got hurt, you absolute dingus.”

“He shouldn’t have insulted you.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Sawada-kun. Sawada Takahisa-kun,” Nezu says, utmost venom in his voice. “What do we have here?”

“They were fighting!” says the student who’d reported the three of you.

“Of course they were. Trust a delinquent to start trouble on his first day,” Nezu says, as Gokudera finally sits upright. Nezu clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Fuji-kun, call another teacher to deal with Gokudera-kun. And as for you two? With me, to the staff room.”

He ends up calling Mama and sending you home. The two of you trail after her, dejected, through the school gates. Tsuna’s still dribbling blood occasionally, and he’s obviously in pain. You don’t envy him at all.

“Tsu-kun…” Mama pauses. “Are you all right? This isn’t like you.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re sorry,” you say on his behalf, for about the fifth time in as many minutes.

“I know you are,” Mama says tiredly. “What really happened? I’m sure you didn’t attack him out of nowhere like Nezu-sensei said. That man, I swear…”

“He was bullying Takkun.”

“Was not!” you say, slightly affronted. “He was just being a little mean.”

“He was trying to flick them.”

“I understand being angry when someone insults your family. Believe me, I’ve been there. But _why_ did you think violence was the right answer?” Mama asks, sounding completely unimpressed. “I can’t believe you’re taking after Takkun.”

“Um… I may not have been thinking straight,” Tsuna says. “I was really anxious, okay? And angry! I thought people were finally starting to leave them alone, and I just…”

You soften a little. Yes, Tsuna may have been in the wrong, but he only did it out of love for you.

That obviously doesn’t change the fact that you’re now stuck cleaning the equipment shed, baseball diamond, track field and bleachers for three days with Gokudera, but it _does_ lessen some of your frustration at him.

“I understand,” Mama says. Tsuna brightens. “And I hope that _you_ understand why I’m grounding you this week.”

“But—”

“Tsu-kun, you’re getting off lucky,” you say. “Don’t dig the hole deeper.”

For once—for _once_ —you are blameless. You’d like to savor the feeling.

*

**Sasagawa Kyoko:** Do you want me to bring you my notes and the homework for the rest of the day **Sasagawa Kyoko:** I don’t know if anyone else offered yet **Sasagawa Kyoko:** Let me know (≧◡≦) ♡

**You:** i would appreciate that.

**Tsu-kun:** pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaseeeeeeeeee

**Sasagawa Kyoko:** Okaaaay ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ ♡

*

Tsuna has been staring at his phone for ten minutes. Is it the heart Kyoko sent? It’s probably the heart.

At least it’s a distraction from the mounting doom of having to face Gokudera _again._ You know Tsuna hadn’t exactly been _thrilled_ about it from your memories-not-memories, but he also hadn’t felt this much active dislike towards Gokudera.

(It’s today. You completely blame Mochida for this, even if you shouldn’t really._

Oh, well… All you can do is hope for the best, and also hope whoever Reborn’s calling over for you doesn’t actually murder you.

While you’re lost in trepidation, worrying over this and that, Reborn congratulate Tsuna, seeming positively _thrilled_ that he had gotten in a fight.

“A good mafia boss defends the honor of the famiglia,” he’d said over lunch (late, since you’d missed the chance to eat at school). “Tsunayoshi, you’re already blowing my expectations out of the water.”

Hours later, you’re still not sure whether that had been a compliment or a backhanded insult.

Whatever the case, you consider yourself (and your brother) lucky to have somehow escaped reprimand.

Kyoko rings the doorbell twenty minutes later, and when Tsuna seems too flustered to answer, you roll your eyes and head downstairs. Fortunately for you, Reborn had graciously decided _not_ to rearm the booby traps, so you’re able to rush down the stairs without having to fear for your life.

“Kyoko-san’s here!” you call out. Mama yells back a wordless affirmative.

You reach the front door. You open it. You resist the urge to slam it shut and instead step back to allow Kyoko and, for some reason you can’t even _begin_ to fathom, Gokudera to enter your house.

“Hi,” Gokudera says casually, kicking his shoes off and nudging them over towards the others.

“H…” You can’t even finish. You shift your attention to Kyoko instead, smiling as sunnily as you can. “Hi, Kyoko-san!”

“Sorry about this,” Kyoko apologizes, motioning towards Gokudera. “I didn’t want to bring him along, but he said he wanted to say sorry. So… here he is.”

“Where’s Reborn?” Gokudera asks instead.

“Upstairs,” you say automatically, not bothering to press for an apology. It doesn’t bother you. Not really. Others have done _much_ worse, after all, and you have a fairly thick skin.

To be completely and totally honest, you’re not sure how you would have acted if your roles had been reversed. If Gokudera had been insulting Tsuna instead of you. Would you have recklessly tried to hurt him? You think you’re past those days now, but who knows…

Gokudera heads in the direction of your room, and you and Kyoko follow.

Tsuna has already began puffing up in shock when you get there, looking between Reborn and Gokudera in bewilderment. 

“I told you you’d be meeting with him today,” Reborn says, prodding Tsuna with one tiny finger. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to,” Tsuna says stubbornly. “Not until he apologizes.”

“For using a convenient weakness against you?” Reborn asks.

“Yes!”

“But that’s common sense,” Gokudera protests.

“Sorry, they’re being stupid,” you say to Kyoko.

“No, it’s okay, my brother’s like that all the time,” she says, pulling a few sheets of paper and a notebook out of her back. Ryohei, huh? You haven’t seen him in a while, since he’s been so busy, becoming the captain of the boxing club and whatnot. You kind of miss him. “Here. I’m going to a costume party with Haru-chan tonight so I can’t stay to help you guys go over it. I’m sure Reborn-kun can help you, though.”

Huh. It _is_ Halloween, now that you think about it. The holiday usually isn’t on your radar; your household doesn’t really celebrate it.

“Oh—thanks,” you say, taking the stuff from her and clutching it awkwardly to yourself. “Are you leaving now?”

“Yeah,” Kyoko says apologetically. “Make sure to give my notebook back tomorrow. Bye!”

With that, she abandons you, and you have no choice but to get involved in whatever they’re arguing about.

“Regardless of whether it’s common sense, we need to get this over with,” Reborn says. “I need to assess Tsunayoshi’s abilities, and it’s almost dark. I’ve already secured Nana-san’s permission to go, so let’s not waste any more time.”

“My abilities,” Tsuna parrots despairingly. “Right. Those. The abilities that I definitely have.”

“Think of it as a placement test,” Reborn says, crawling up your leg and onto your shoulder. You _hate_ that feeling. “You’ll do well.”

“I have no choice.”

“You have no choice,” Reborn agrees happily. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments can be exchanged for my eternal gratitude. consider boosting my ego to astronomical, physics-breaking proportions! 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr: [takeshiyamamoto](https://takeshiyamamoto.tumblr.com)


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